The Chronicles of Narnia: Monarchy of Mayhem
by Half Blood-Jedi-Warlock
Summary: They were ordinary teens. Their friends were not ordinary at all. But the unlikely group was chosen to assist Narnia... for a purpose and a reason. This is a very amusing take on The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, with insane siblings, lightsabers, half-bloods, and interactive narrators. Crossover with Merlin, Star Wars, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Percy Jackson.


**Disclaimer: The world of Chronicles of Narnia is not mine. If it was, there would be much more randomness and chaos.**

* * *

**_Prologue Part 1:_**

_The land of Narnia is in peril. The evil White Witch, Jadis, has subjugated all inhabitants of the land; has forced all good guys into hiding; and has cast a wintry spell over the kingdom. For over 100 years, the Narnians have lived in a frozen winter wonderland. Aslan, the Great Lion of Narnia and the Son-of-the-Emperor-Across-the-Sea, has not been seen for over a century. Many creatures secretly cling to the hope that He will send the 4 long-awaited heroes of an ancient prophecy, and free them from tyranny…_

**_Prologue Part 2:_**

_"Run!"_

_Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie scrambled through the halls of Professor Kirke's mansion. The Professor, who was their guardian, had been kind to them thus far, but today might become the one exception. Edmund, clumsy idiot that he was, had hit a cricket ball through a window and into an ancient suit of armor. Like a bad crime scene, they had stood gawking at the wreckage for a few minutes._

_"Well done, Ed." Peter rolled his eyes._

_Lucy huffed. Now they were all probably gonna get in trouble…_

_Edmund stuck his tongue out at his older brother. He almost retorted something back, when Susan shushed him._

_"I don't recognize this emblem." She knelt down and ran her hands over the breastplate of the armor. On it was an etched design of an animal rearing- a lion, maybe? Or a horse- she couldn't tell the difference. The tunic over the armor was a faded pinkish color, so no one could tell what design was once on it. "It's not from any country or kingdom I know…"_

_Susan was the bookish one of the siblings, so she was bound to know ancient royal crests. Peter frowned, trying to see what his sister saw. Edmund shrugged._

_"It's just a piece of ancient junk, Su."_

_"But the Professor had it! Don't you see? He could become famous in the historical community, with this in his house! It's probably from an unknown ruler of England or something, way back when! I wonder how he found it…"_

_Susan's ruminations were suddenly cut short by the stomping of feet. The angry voice of one Mrs. McCraedy echoed down the hall. She happened to be Professor Kirke's housekeeper, and with her ever-ready temper and grouchiness was not a favorite of the kids._

_"What in heaven's name is going on here?! If I find that you children are causing trouble again, so help me, I will-"_

_Lucy gasped in horror. "It's her! The McCraedy!"_

_The 4 siblings had fled, and that was why they were now panting through the never-ending halls and doorways. The footsteps of the McCraedy sounded right behind them, so they tried every door. But most of them were locked, which was strange. Everything had been open when they played hide-and-seek a few days ago._

_Susan went down a back hallway, but the footsteps echoed from that direction too. She glanced at her brothers and sister in desperation. They couldn't hear the McCraedy's voice anymore, so who was chasing them?_

_One last hallway left. Edmund ran ahead, Lucy right behind him. They both knew this hall, and what lay within. Only one door happened to be unlocked. Lucy thumped it open, and Edmund ran to the wardrobe and wrenched the doors apart._

_"Come on!" He and Lucy ran inside the wardrobe._

_Peter and Susan glared. "You've got to be joking."_

_But the mysterious footsteps pounded through the hall behind them. Not eager to be caught, they jumped inside. Peter closed the wardrobe's door quietly, saw the latch lift from the room's entrance…_

_"Get back!" he hissed. He started moving backwards through the musty coats, giving his siblings no choice._

_"Ow, Peter! That's my elbow!" Edmund yelled._

_"Susan, you're squishing me!" Lucy complained._

_"And that was my eye, watch it!" Peter growled._

_"Lu, stop stepping on my toes! And all of you, be quiet!" Susan snapped._

_"No, you shut up, Su!"_

_"Honestly, whoever's outside would be able to hear us by now!"_

_"These coats are messing up my hair!"_

_"Wait, where's Lucy?" Edmund squinted in the dark._

_"Lucy?" Peter uselessly tried to turn around._

_"Lucy?! Lucy?!" Susan shrieked. "You lost her?"_

_"Oh, so it's my fault now, is it?__"_

_"It's the coats, I swear! Gosh, stop arguing! All the mothballs are getting to my head…" Edmund grumbled._

_They shouted and argued some more, not really caring who heard them._

_Dim light started to filter in from ahead. Suddenly, Peter tripped and fell and then Susan fell on him and Edmund tripped and fell on her. They were lying on something cold and soft._

_"What the-" Peter and Susan brushed snow off their arms. "Snow?!" Was Lucy right?_

_Edmund didn't seem to be surprised as he walked a bit further in, but Peter and Susan stared._

_Listening to your crazy sister ramble on about a land in a wardrobe was one thing. Tumbling into the actual winter wonderland she talked about was quite another. Their breath froze in the air. Tiny snowflakes fell from the sky, dusting their cheeks; snowdrifts were piled high. Tall trees grew in every direction. Mountain ranges extended in the distance. Everything was bare and frozen and cold, but it was an odd sort of beauty._

_Lucy was standing under some trees, with a knowing grin._

_"Impossible!" Susan breathed._

* * *

**Chapter 1:** _A Whole New World_

"Are we there yet?" Edmund Pevensie whined.

Peter and Lucy were walking too far ahead in the snow to hear, but Susan rolled her eyes. Even though Edmund was her favorite brother, his complaints were starting to wear on her nerves. She adjusted the ruff of her collar so to cover her ears a bit more. Maybe that would muffle his irritating voice, especially as he grumbled for the 50th time. She was starting to regret her offer of walking with her brother, since the others wanted nothing to do with him and his surly attitude.

"Su, I don't understand why we are doing this. Stupid beavers inviting us to their stupid house, while we have to walk through miles of stupid snow in this stupid freezer of a wardrobe…"

Even though she partially agreed with Edmund, Susan gritted her teeth.

It all started earlier today when the Pevensies accepted an invitation to eat dinner with the Beavers. See, normally, you wouldn't trust beavers, and definitely not talking ones who offer you something to eat at that. But some things cannot be taken for granted, especially after that strange conversation with their guardian Professor Kirke, who almost seemed to believe Lucy when she talked of finding a land inside a wardrobe, meeting a half-goat-half-man-thing named Tumnus, and talking to animals. And don't forget the way she and Edmund dragged them all into said wardrobe while the McCraedy (the ever-angry housekeeper) chased them; and then the falling into Lucy's 'snow-globe' land. After all that and trudging everywhere in the frigid weather, a warm meal was a welcome prospect.

Mrs. Beaver bustled about happily in her cramped kitchen, muttering excitedly about prophecies and cooking random stuff. Mr. Beaver was drinking beer from a mug and talking loudly to the kids, who sat right across from him at the round dinner table, waiting for their food. Well, except for Edmund, who pouted and decided to sit on a pile of logs beside the door.

Peter leaned forward, trying to understand what Mr. Beaver was saying about Lucy's friend-half-goat-man-thing, and a Queen called the White Witch. He nodded, even though he didn't understand half the things that Beaver was talking about, and was thinking, _if this is what is inside the wardrobe, maybe Ed was right about a football field in the bathroom cupboard_. Susan looked down at her hands politely folded under the table, trying to convince herself, "This is not logical, but yes, I'm talking to a beaver, this isn't weird at all." Lucy studied the fire and wondered how so much heat could come from such a tiny hearth. And Edmund, of course, just scowled in his corner.

_What kind of low-class creatures are these?_ He thought. _They don't even have the courtesy to serve me Turkish Delight? How rude. _He frowned at the ceiling_. How dare you make me sit on a pile of logs, Narrator?!_

Whiners like you don't deserve any better; in fact, I could make it worse. But this is my story, so shut it.

_Fine_.

Peter couldn't stand Lucy's sad face, especially when she made puppy-dog eyes. "Is there anything we can do to help Tumnus?" he asked. Mr. Tumnus had been befriended by Lucy before he was taken prisoner by the White Witch's wolves for accusations of 'fraternizing with humans'. Lucy turned from facing her fire, concerned for her dear friend.

"They'll be taking him to the Witch's house. There's few that go in those gates that come out again." Beaver looked grave, as if he was already choosing flowers for Tumnus' funeral.

"Fish and chips!" Mrs. Beaver brought plates over to the table, trying to be cheerful. The food on the plates was steaming warm, and smelled good. Sliced potatoes had been fried and piled high on the sides, and a blackened crisp resembling a fish had some sort of nuts sprinkled on top of it.

Lucy sighed in disappointment. _First Mr. Tumnus, and now burnt food. Can't we get better service, Narrator?_

Sorry, no can do.

Mrs. Beaver, thinking that Lucy was sad because of Mr. Tumnus, put a paw on her shoulder comfortingly. "But there's hope, dear."

Mr. Beaver broke the solemn silence by burping loudly, making everyone jump. "Oh, blimey, yeah! There's a rumor going about." He leaned towards them, lowering his voice. "_Aslan_ is on the move."

The children all looked at him, feeling a warm and delicious sensation when he mentioned Aslan, and wondering what it meant. Edmund got up from his pile-of-logs chair.

"Who's Aslan?"

Mrs. Beaver smiled, but Mr. Beaver started laughing. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, who's Aslan? You cheeky little blighter! Ha, ha, ha…"

Edmund scowled again. _He's calling me a blighter? What the heck is a blighter?_

Mrs. Beaver noticed the children weren't smiling anymore; they were all frowning with confusion. She nudged her husband's arm; he finally calmed down from his laughing fit and frowned too.

"You don't know, do ya?" He stated.

Peter spread his hands, irritated. "We did just get here, you know!"

"Well, He's only King of the whole- World. The top geezer. The _real_ King of Narnia!"

Guess what Edmund did? You're right- he scowled and shook his head, moving back to his pile of logs next to the door.

Mr. and Mrs. Beaver explained that this Aslan hadn't been in Narnia for a while, but He just got back- and was waiting for the Pevensies! Tumnus' arrest, Aslan's arrival, and the secret police all happened because of their appearance.

"You're blaming us?!" Peter, Susan, and Lucy exclaimed.

"Yes! I mean, no! Not like you're thinkin'. Listen here…"

Mr. Beaver kept his voice low, should any of the White Witch's minions be around. Not likely though, it was 20 degrees below zero outside. "Look: When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone/Sits at Cair Paravel in throne/The evil time will be over and done."

Lucy tilted her head. "What's Cair Paravel?"

Peter frowned. "Huh? What throne?"

Susan wrinkled her nose in distaste. "You know, that doesn't really rhyme."

"Well- well, you're kinda missin' the point!" Mr. Beaver spluttered.

"What point?"

Mrs. Beaver smiled indulgently at Beaver's impatience. "It has long been foretold that 2 sons of Adam, and 2 daughters of Eve, will defeat the White Witch, and restore peace to Narnia!"

Susan and Peter looked at each other, then at the Beavers. "And you think _we're_ the ones?"

"Yeah, 'cause Aslan's already figured out you an army!"

"An army?" Lucy found that hard to believe.

"Wait, what?! Mom sent us away so we _wouldn't_ get caught up in a war." Susan suggested to Peter.

Peter turned to the Beavers. "I think you've made a mistake. We're no heroes!"

"We're from Finchley!" Susan added. _Come on Beavers, we're not even from this country! What is the Professor going to think?_

The Beavers looked at each other, confused.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Susan stood up abruptly, "But we _really_ have to go!

Mr. Beaver pushed back his stool. "But you can't just leave!"

Susan grinned. "Yes we can."

Lucy looked concerned again. "No, he's right! We have to help Mr. Tumnus."

Peter gave her an exasperated look. His littlest and most favorite sister was always getting herself into something because she had too much compassion for others. "It's out of our hands! I'm sorry, ok? But it's time for us to be getting home. Ed? Ed?" He glanced behind him, expecting to see Edmund's all-too-familiar scowl… _wait a minute_.

The door next to the wood pile was ajar. Edmund was nowhere in sight.

Peter glared at the door with his lips pinched tight in anger, wishing it was his brother. "I'm gonna kill 'im."

Mr. Beaver shook his head, speaking ominously. "You may not have to. Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?"

Lucy nodded. "I'm afraid he has."

* * *

Edmund trudged along the path, wishing he had brought his coat. It was snowing lightly, and just when he thought it couldn't get much worse, it started to rain as well. The path he was on turned into a slushy, muddy rut, with tree branches whipping him in the face.

_Drat this mud and drat this wind_, he thought. _Oh well, when I get to the White Witch's castle, she'll give me snacks and Turkish Delight to warm up with. She did tell me that, in her sleigh_. He started comforting himself with thoughts of revenge on his siblings. _She told me she would make me a King, Peter a Duke or something, and Susan and Lucy other unimportant things. Ha, he deserves it, acting like he's so in control. Susan's always so bossy, and now Lucy thinks she's so special by discovering this place first. That stupid narrator too, thinks she can dictate my life story. Idiots, what do they know; they haven't met the real Queen of Narnia._

He frowned for a moment, slight guilt creeping in at the thought of Mr. Tumnus, Lucy's friend. Somehow, he knew that he had played a part in the Faun's capture. He shivered, wished the guilty feeling away, and shrugged. _Ah, well. Tumnus probably was conspiring against Her. Lucy doesn't deserve him, even though she thinks he's a friend. I've done my sister a favor._

He smiled as he climbed over the last ridge. Down in the icy valley, something cast a sharp shadow over the dark ground. His destination, the Witch's house, was just ahead.

* * *

Lucy rested her head on her knees, staring into the fire. Light and shadows flickered on the walls of the small cave; the whole group had taken shelter in it after being chased from the Beavers' home. _What an exciting and disappointing day. First we come into Narnia, meet some talking beavers. Then we lose Edmund, only to find he's betrayed us to this White Witch. Now we get chased by wolves, find some creatures that got turned into stone statues by a dumb witch, somehow get rescued by an injured Talking Fox, and discover that this Aslan person has an army for us. Go figure_.

The groans from the Fox disrupted her reverie. He had gotten numerous cuts and bruises from being thrown around by the wolves, the White Witch's 'secret police'. Mrs. Beaver was carefully treating his wounds with herbs she had packed away.

Lucy pointed to the statues outside. "What are those?"

"That's what you'll be if you cross the Witch. They were helping Tumnus. Ow!"

"Are you alright?" Lucy asked him.

He laughed weakly as Mrs. Beaver placed something on his shoulder, "I wish you could say their bark was worse than their bite- Owwwlp!"

"Stop squirming!" she chided. "You're worse than Beaver on bath day!"

Mr. Beaver made a face that set everyone laughing, "Worst day of the year."

Lucy winced as the Fox painfully stood on all fours, and faced them.

"Thanks, but no thanks, I have to go."

Lucy was worried. "You're leaving?"

The Fox bowed formally with a graceful swish of his tail. "It has been a pleasure, my Queen, and an honor. But time is running short, and Aslan Himself has asked me to gather more troops."

The Beavers were delighted, "You've seen Aslan? What's he like?"

"Like everything you've ever heard of. You'll be glad to have Him on your side in the battle against the Witch!"

"But we aren't planning on fighting any witch," Susan pointed out.

"But surely, King Peter," the Fox inclined his head towards Peter, "the prophecy."

"We can't go on without ya," Beaver added.

Peter threw a stone into the fire. "We just want our kid brother back."

After the Fox left, the Pevensies and the Beavers stared at one another. Each settled back against the cave wall, brooding about the burden that had been handed them. Peter watched the firelight and shadows coil and curl together, mirroring his own confusion. _This Aslan has already marshaled an army for us to lead, and everyone else we meet is certain that we are the heroes from that prophecy. Should I ask Aslan to send us home? It may not be safe for the girls, plus, if we die fighting a war, what would happen back in England? What would the Professor think? Can you send us back, Narrator?_

I don't have the power to do that. Aslan does, though.

_But you're the narrator_, Peter was frustrated. _You make things happen!_

I only dictate events as they happen, and what world they take place in. Aslan has the real power in Narnia, ask him.

_I doubt that_. Peter scowled, looking somewhat like Edmund, and continued the silent verbal war with the narrator.

Lucy gazed into the flames again (what is it with this girl and fire?). _Poor Edmund, he must be miserable. I hope we find him before that Witch does anything to him…_

There was a huge THUMPHHH outside the cave as if something had landed in a snow drift. Everyone in the cave jerked their heads up; the pursuit of the wolves earlier had made their nerves on edge. It is not a pleasant thing to hear something you can't see when you're being chased.

A second THUMPHHHHHHHH, much larger than the first, echoed through the cave. Peter, Susan, and Lucy grabbed rocks and whatever thick sticks were available, and hurriedly put out the fire. The only light came from outside now, and it wasn't much. The Beavers crouched, ready to spring on any assailant.

Voices and rustling filtered through the dimly lit cave; it was hard to tell whether it was morning or evening. The voices didn't sound like wolves…

"_Mer_-lin!" a muffled voice exclaimed. "Ow! Get off me! And why is it so cold?"

"If you were as intelligent as you claim to be, dollophead, you'd realize that we are lying in snow. And you would also notice that Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Lancelot fell on top of me."

"Merlin?"

The voice designated as Merlin sounded too innocent. "Hmm, sire?"

"Shut up."

Chuckles echoed in the clearing. "He is telling the truth though, Arthur. Hmm… Perce, move over a bit, would you?"

By this time, the cave dwellers were mighty curious about what was happening out there, so they crept forward along the walls. A tall man covered in snow was digging himself out of a large snowdrift, which turned out to be a pile of six other men. They were shuffling around and trying to untangle themselves.

Peter, Susan, and Lucy stifled their laughter.

The one on the bottom sounded squished. "You alright, men? No casualties, I presume?"

The rest of the men grunted assent as they slowly pulled themselves out of the pile.

A gangly raven-haired youth stood up, "Where are we? That seemed like a magical transportation."

"Yes, _Mer_lin, that is obviously what happened. How long did it take for your mentally-challenged brain to figure that one out?"

Peter signaled for the others to stay back in the cave, then stepped out into the light, holding a stick. "You're in Narnia."

There was a collective gasp, and the new groupies withdrew defensively. They all drew out swords. A moment of silence reigned before someone gained the courage to speak.

"Hello… um… who are you?" a blond man asked, not sounding very professional at all.

"I'm… Peter Pevensie, from England. I might ask the same of you."

Blondie pointed his sword at Peter. "First tell us whether you be friend or foe."

"I guess I'm a friend, but-"

"Are you alone?"

"Well…" Peter considered, "No."

Blondie's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Who else?"

Peter motioned to the others to come out from the cave. As Susan, Lucy, and the Beavers emerged, he explained, "These are my sisters, and this is Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. We were apparently called here by an Aslan."

Blondie shifted his feet. "Who is Aslan?"

Peter said, "We're still trying to figure that one out. We don't know exactly how we got here."

"Good, sounds like our experiences may have common ground. I am Arthur Pendragon." The man's blue eyes roved over them shrewdly, as if examining them for threats. Seeming satisfied, he sheathed his sword and offered his hand to Peter, who shook it. Then he proceeded to quickly introduce his group of knights; the extremely tall man was Sir Percival, the one with long hair was Sir Gwaine, the curly-haired one was Sir Leon, the one with dark eyes and a serious face was Sir Lancelot, the dark-skinned one was Sir Elyan. And then there was… Merlin.

The gangly youth stuck his hand out from behind the group and gave a huge grin. "And I'm Merlin."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "This is my… for lack of a better word, manservant."

Merlin's grin faded.

Lucy's eyes were bugging out. "Are you King Arthur Pendragon? From Camelot? From the legends? Are you really?"

Not sure how to deal with a hyper little girl, Arthur backed up a step. "Uhh, yes. I am. Why do you ask?"

"I've heard of you, we all have! You're a legend! You had the greatest kingdom in England! You're amazing!"

Arthur looked confused. "Wait, I _had_ a kingdom? So I'm a legend already? What is England?"

Lucy had already moved onto Merlin. "Ooo, I know you too! You're the one that helped-"

"To save Arthur's life more times than I can count!" Merlin interrupted her too happily. "And to keep him in shape- Ow!" Arthur had cuffed him 'round the head.

Peter pushed on his sister's shoulder to stop her from hopping around. "Calm down, Lu."

Susan, as per usual was thinking logically (or trying to) and saying how none of this was possible, how King Arthur and Merlin should be dead, and not talking with them in a land in a wardrobe.

They were about to go in the cave and relax when several THUMPHHHHs echoed around them in the clearing. Peter groaned.

"Oh, no, not again."

But sure enough, more voices and rustlings came from beneath the trees' shadows. Different people and aliens in odd clothes emerged from snowdrifts, saying various things.

"Where is my power converter? Gosh, I must have dropped it inside the ship! Leia, have you seen it?"

"Relax, Anakin. Take a deep breath."

"I'm not nervous, Master Kenobi. I'm confused 'cause snow is in my- wait, where is my lightsaber?"

"Where is the rum? No! Why has the rum gone? Elizabeth darlin'?"

"Don't pretend like you care about me, Jack. Your stupid rum is gone. Will, are you alright? Will?"

"Will someone get this big carpet out of my way?" demanded some girl.

"Elizabeth? I'm fine… you alright? Where's Jack?"

"Keep laughing, fuzzball, or you'll find yourself floating home! That hyperdrive is gonna stay faulty unless we find a way to get back to the ship!" A muffled laughing sound like an animal came from the shade.

"Oh, idiot, this is all your fault!" was followed by "Beep boop breeeeeeep *whistle*."

Peter and Susan seemed surprised, and were thinking the same thing. _What is this? Oh, no, Aslan didn't send _them_ too, did he? Did he?_ Peter darted a glance at the cloudy sky, suspecting that the narrator had a hand in this.

The newcomers walked into the clearing where the Pevensies, the Beavers, and Arthur's group stood, watching the appearances of these strange people. Everybody was asking the same questions: "Who are these people/weirdos?" "Where are we?" "Why are we here?" "When can we go home?"

Susan decided to start out *logically*. "Excuse me, but if everyone could…"

Nobody was listening. They were either glaring daggers at each other or whispering amongst themselves or arguing.

Sir Percival took the matter in hand and roared, "Everyone, STOP!"

Everyone did.


End file.
